Insecurities
by GatsbyGeek
Summary: When Charlotte Rose catches Spencer's eye while working her shift at a bookstore a chance romance blossoms. But how will Spencer convince her she's beautiful when she's been told different her entire life? Rated M for mature themes and violence just to be safe
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, so I started writing a Criminal Minds fanfiction, which I haven't done in a long time, because I had an idea about how every single girl these days has a mental list of what they don't like about themselves. Even I have an instinct reaction to, when I receive a compliment, tell myself the opposite. Last year it had gotten to the point where I avoided mirrors and if I saw my reflection I felt like crying and had to go obsessively fix my make up and throw on a baggy sweater to hide my "fat ugly body". So basically, I wrote this as a retelling of sorts, of my own story. Charlotte's life(excluding Reid) is loosely based on my own experiences up until this year as the GFG, or Gross Fat Girl, the name I called myself for nearly half my life.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds**

Chapter One

Dr. Spencer Reid had been coming into the same bookstore for weeks now, partially due to his admiration of the collection of history text held there, but also because of a certain blonde employee that had caught his eye. Her personality was bright, but not always honestly, and as a profiler with extreme accuracy in reading body language, she was easy to decode. Spencer had already come up with a general assumption: she was very self conscious and speculating, most likely the aftereffects of a trauma, and she usually covered it with an overly warm, welcoming and confident personality. But there was something about her, something different.

He needed to know more.

Unfortunately, he was perpetually shy, and he wasn't even completely sure what he was looking to gain from speaking to her. But today, life decided to be difficult and throw Spencer a hardball.

He had walked up to a middle-aged employee, looking to purchase a novel, when she politely held up a hand and declared over her shoulder, "Charlotte! I'm almost on my break and my back can't take anymore, could you please take over?"

The woman stepped away from the counter and headed towards what Spencer assumed was a lounge, showing a rather small bump, expanding her stomach only slightly. In her place, the center of Spencer's attention had appeared.

Charlotte Rose was working her shift wearing a short, summer dress the color of peonies, complete with long curled blonde hair. She was a force to be reckoned with.

Spencer realized he was practically gaping at his lack of luck and retained his calm demeanor. He set the rather large novel down on the counter and took In her look of surprise.

"Crime and Punishment, huh? It's one of my favorites, not many read it without being forced to."

The statement was accompanied by a soft laugh resembling bells chiming, and Spencer began absentmindedly rattling off, still taking in the lovely sound of her voice.

"Yes, it's a favorite of mine too, I happen to find Dostoyevsky's writing to be pleasantly counterintuitive to the rather mature and gruesome content he discusses. Did you know that prior to the nineteenth century, Russian literary traditions were started by Gavrila Derzhavin, Denis Fonvizin, Alexander Sumarokov. In fact, from around the 1830s Russian literature underwent an astounding golden age, beginning with the poet and novelist Alexander Pushkin and culminating in two of the greatest novelists in world literature, Leo Tolstoy and Fyodor Dostoyevsky, and the short story writer and playwright Anton Chekhov."

Spencer immediately shut his mouth and ducked his head, ashamed of his embarrassing habit to prattle off any information he has on something, which could span several minutes. He moved to forget the whole thing, place the book back, and never return when the young woman's laugh hit him again.

"Wow, I didn't know any of that! I should, considering I work here, but that's impressively accurate!"

Spencer kept his head down, focusing on her hands swiping the book through a scanner, and taking his two twenty dollar bills. "Most people find it annoying or too showy."

"I think it's cute. My name's Charlotte by the way, I forgot my nametag at home again, I'm a klutz I guess." More laughter followed and she handed him his bag and receipt, and upon looking down at a schedule, got a twinge of irritancy in her eyes. Spencer sat back down where he had previously, and watched Charlotte stomp over to the room the other woman had entered, and strike an aggressive pose at the doorway, looking in with one hip popped out.

"Lauren! It is not your break soon, it's mine! You lied to me to get me to work for you again!"

Spencer chuckled at her infuriated reaction as the older woman yelled back, "Hey! I'm pregnant, give me a break!"

"You're one month pregnant, Lauren; I think you can handle a dead empty bookstore for one night!"

Struggling to hide his laughter, Spencer ducked his head behind his novel as the two women came back out, but caught Charlotte's eye on accident. Her face became beet red and she rushed over, seating herself across from him.

"You heard that, didn't you?"

"Well I-"

"I'm sorry, I'm usually more polite but I've had a long day and I didn't sleep last night."

"Oh, I'm-"

"I'm sorry, now it sounds like I'm complaining, I don't mean to, I just wanted to explain and now I'm rambling, I'm sorry!"

"It's alright, I-"

"I'm sorry, I'm apologizing too much, Lauren says it makes people uncomfortable and awkward, I'm sorry- oh! There I go again!"

Spencer quickly took his chance to talk before she could cut him off again, no matter how adorable her embarrassed rambling was.

"It's alright, I understand how lack of sleep can be, I work with the FBI and I hardly get sound sleep, even on vacations. My name's Spencer by the way."

Charlotte's face had lost its blush by the time he shook her dainty hand and sat closer to her to talk.

"Wow, the FBI, huh? I used to dream of becoming an investigator, and then a psychiatrist, then a writer, then an artist, now I don't really know what I want to do."

The pair talked until the store had closed, completely engrossed in the conversation, intrigued with one another. Spencer learned much more about Charlotte than his analysis of her had. He learned that she had very closed off body language, even though her personality was warm and light hearted. She seemed to hate prolonged eye contact and drawing attention to herself. If he pointedly looked her she immediately began to look nervous and shift. She avoided the topic of family, and as for friends she confidently stated that she didn't need people that would scour her for personal information as a security deposit on their friendship. Charlotte was obviously a woman scorned many times, but Spencer admired her ability to play things off and maintain a carefree demeanor.

After inviting her to a cup of coffee the next morning, he exchanged phone numbers with her, and prayed he wouldn't be called off to a case. Charlotte intrigued him, more so than an encyclopedia or novel.

She was different, and he liked different.

**A/N: Sorry it's so short! I'm leaving for Hong Kong for my very first vacation in my 17 years Saturday, and I need to pack, panic, prepare, say my goodbyes, and panic some more! I'm planning to get a ton or writing done during the 14 hour plane ride from Chicago to Hong Kong, both to and back, and I have ideas for this story and another new one, so expect updates in the next few weeks! Bye GatsbyGeekers!(my friend thought of the name for my followers, which probably isn't that many haha, and I love it! What do you guys think?)**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

He lived on coffee.

He drank it to stay up late, to not fall asleep, to get out of bed, you name it. He knew it was unhealthy, he could even name twenty-four illnesses related to or worsened by coffee. But he needed it; it made him energized, awake, alert. Never before had it made him feel (this) way, however.

For the first time in his life, coffee had made Spencer nervous.

He knew it was ridiculous but he couldn't help the horde of questions flooding his mind: was this a date? Did coffee justify itself as a date while standing alone in a single comprehensive suggestion for leisurely recreation? Was Charlotte real and not something his head had made up in a new, evolved state of mind where the laws of physics no longer mattered to a genius?Did he-?

The brunette's self torment was interrupted by a gruff waiter asking if he would like anything. Spencer politely declined, insistent to wait for Charlotte, as he had read at 6:13 this morning in (italicize) the concerned man's guide to female signals and encounters (italicize) that this was a positive gesture. Turning his head to look at the clock for the umpteenth time, he caught sight of her, paused, and took in her appearance having never seen her without her uniform apron.

She wore a modest spring dress, the contrast of maroon against her ivory skin pleasantly drawing his eyes. She never wore heeled shoes, he noticed, even though most women he knew did, and she was of short stature, probably barely scraping five feet. She was more keen to ballet flats that fit her small feet delicately, and Spencer loved that about her.

The breathtaking woman was also unceremoniously soaked to the bone from the rain pouring down outside. Her dress clung to her curves and Spencer immediately became overwhelmed with jealousy as the men in the coffee shop ogled her drenched form.

Charlotte never ceased to make his breath catch in his throat in such a way that he became slightly alarmed- once he had even checked his pulse to make sure the beat his heart had missed was only a one time thing. But, as always, it came back when she smiled at him and his stomach clenched as he choked out, "Uh, hey."

"Hey yourself, Spencer." she giggled and sat down across from him, folding her dress beneath her in a graceful fashion and wrapping her arms around her stomach, blocking the view from him. "I ran into a bit of rain..."

"I got us a Charlotte, table-no! Uh, I meant, I got us a table, not a Charlotte-er well a you suppose, I mean, god..." he put his head in his hands and wondered if he could teleport himself home with the power of suggestion when the blonde across from him let out another chime bell laugh, this one consuming her as she bent over slightly, a tear forming at her eye before sobering rather abruptly.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh."

Before Spencer could stop himself, "No, it's alright, I rather like your laugh."

Charlotte's face reddened as she looked down, hiding part of her chin in her curls, before twitching her eyebrow, as if speaking to herself, and then forcing away the reaction completely. Spencer thought this odd and mentally stored it away to mull over later.

"Uh, would you like my jacket? You look freezing cold!" the brunette had already shrugged off his dark brown button up sweater, wrapping it around her shoulders gently. "Thanks, I was already halfway here when the rain started, and it was too late to turn back."

"So," he began again as they ordered and received their coffee-him an Americano with extra sugar, and Charlotte a vanilla cappuccino. "why do you work at the bookstore, what's you story?"

"Well, I originally wanted to be an artist or perhaps an art therapist. I was aiming for a scholarship so I could afford to go to college to major in art and minor in therapy, but after a mishap I had the scholarship revoked and had to pay for college by the skin of my teeth. Artists don't exactly have a solid income so for now I'm at the bookstore, minimum wage and all that jazz." she joked, lightheartedly.

"Wow, um, I'm sorry." was all he could manage.

"It's alright, so what about you? I'm expecting something impressive, smarty pants, so don't disappoint me!" Charlotte joked, her wide smile lighting up her face.

"I work with the FBI in the behavioral analysis unit."

Charlotte took over a serious expression, leaned in, and whispered, "Well crap, I probably shouldn't tell you about my ex-boyfriend's severed head in my purse then, huh?"

Spencer laughed in surprise at hearing such crude humor coming from such an innocent looking girl before continuing, "I have a pretty hectic schedule because of it, so my life doesn't involve many exciting things other than that. My team and I profile serial killers and attempt to predict their next move before they make it."

"Oh, like chess?"

"You play?"

As she held her cup the excitement overtook her mid-sip and she put it down, declaring with a foam mustache, "Of course!"

Spencer laughed a genuine laugh and dabbed at her lip with a napkin across the table slightly awkwardly, still suspicious as to why this coffee maybe-date was was going so well. Charlotte's cheeks reddened again, and she avoided meeting his eye. "Thanks, I seem to do that often."

"Get foam on your lip?"

"Embarrass myself."

"You're not the only one. I have a bad habit of intimidating people with facts and trivia."

"You must be really smart to be able to know all of that though."

Spencer's heart stumbled over a beat again, "Well I have several BAs, Doctorates, and PHDs, an IQ of 187, eidetic memory, and I can read 20,000 words per minute. 20,467 to be exact as of my last test. So yes, I am 'really smart'."

Charlotte 's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She took Advanced Placement courses in high school, and excelled in college, and she had thought she was smart, but Spencer was a walking talking genius! Somehow, it made her feel a bit inadequate. The doctor's phone rang from his pocket, causing him to answer it immediately, as if by instinct.

"Reid...yeah?...ugh, now?...alright, alright Morgan, I know, I owe you...fine, I'll be there soon."

"Work?"

"Uh, yeah, that was one of the guys on my team, I told you I had a crazy schedule. I'm sorry, I have to-"

"No, no, I understand...hey Spencer?"

"Yeah?"

"Could we, you know, do this again sometime? I had a lot of fun."

"Me too." The brunette gave a wide grin as he gathered all his things, aside from his sweater wrapped around Charlotte's small frame.

"Oh, uh, sorry, I got your sweater wet!" Charlotte said, flustered and moving to give it back.

"It's alright, in fact why don't you keep it? It looks good on you. See you later Charlotte."

"Bye Spence."

The image in his head of her lounging in his clothes, paired with the sound of her saying the nickname usually reserved for JJ, made for a very, very, unproductive day at the BAU.

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys, as some of you (people i know in real life or from other literature sites) know, i've been battling severe depression again, and just having a tough time with it. But writing seems to be really helping, sort of an escape i guess, so you'll be seeing more of me, hopefully, soon. Bye, GatsbyGeekers!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

* * *

It wasn't until two days later at noon that Spencer finally heard from Charlotte again.

His thoughts were filled of her, causing collateral damage to his focus and primarily his interests. Of course, not exactly in a romantic sense, seeing as how most girls made it painfully obvious they wanted nothing to do with him in those respects. He was just...interested in her. That was it. But as he heard the shaky voice on the other line his hand gripped the phone and his heart thumped in a way that didn't exactly scream just interest.

"Hey Spencer, it's me."

Thump...thump...

"Are you busy?"

Thump...thump-thump...

"Ah, no, no, I'm off today; sort of a medical thing."

He still had to have checkups on his bad knee every now and then, made mandatory by Hotch. Prodding and needle poking always worsened the dull ache, causing him to temporarily rely on his old cane afterwards.

"Would...would you be up for another cup of coffee?"

Part of him instantly started searching for an excuse to not go, too ashamed to go publicizing his injury, but the sensible part heard Charlotte's weak voice, hoarse and scratchy. Worry overtook embarrassment.

"Of course, is something the matter? You don't sound well."

"I'm alright, just-can you please meet me at the café?"

After confirming Spencer grabbed his cane and tried his best to drive there smoothly.

* * *

Charlotte was slumped over in her chair, staring dismissively into her empty coffee cup. Winter was nearing and chilling away any remnants of warmth, so her usual attire was set away for another year. Instead she was clad in black leggings and a matching oversized sweater, paired with a red plaid scarf covering her chin and blonde curls.

"Charlotte?"

Startled, she jumped slightly, but only looked up halfway, her gaze falling on his cane.

"Oh! You're hurt! I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have called you-"

"No, no, it's alright. Is something wrong? You seem different and, weighted down I suppose."

Charlotte did not attempt to answer before a waitress came over offering the recent brew of coffee. The two had accepted and the young woman started to pour the dark roasted liquid when a customer came too close, hitting the woman and spilling coffee on Charlotte's scarf, staining the blood red a dark brown.

"I'm so sorry! I'll get some club soda, it'll come right out! I promise!"

"No, wait!"

After much ignored protest the frantic waitress undid the plaid article and took off behind the counter, leaving Charlotte looking down, hands covering her neck. Spencer's brow furrowed, concerned at her odd behavior.

"Are you alright? Charlotte, look at me."

He reached across the small table and lifted her chin before recoiling, the sight too appalling, although very familiar to a man in his line of work. Shades of violet and green marred her light skin, taking the form of not two hands but one, large enough to force such a small woman into submission easily. The small detail made Spencer more enraged than the entire situation at hand; the bastard that bruised such a sweet girl didn't even expect her to put up a fight worthy of more than one hand. Dried blood was crusted on her collarbone, mostly hidden by her knit sweater.

Charlotte was too humiliated to speak, and Spencer didn't trust his voice with the rage boiling just under his skin. He didn't trust himself to be able to separate from his analyst tendencies that would make him see her as a victim. What's even worse was when she got up to leave he let her run away, out of the coffee shop, and back in danger of whoever caused her pain in the first place.

* * *

"Alright pretty boy, who's the girl?"

"What?!" Spencer choked on his cold coffee hard, causing JJ to resort to smacking a hand on his back, the sharp pain stinging his skin.

"Don't play dumb, I know that look."

"What look?"

"The one that says 'I have a pretty girl on my mind and she's got me wrapped tight around her finger.'" Derek replied, accompanied by a knowing laugh from years of experience.

At this point JJ, Garcia, and Rossi were all wearing the same look and prying. Spencer sighed and set down his coffee on the pull out table in front of him, the small jet leaving no space to escape. When he tuned back in Derek was still mid-rant.

"And I think it is very rude and unacceptable to withhold good information from your-"

"Charlotte."

"What?"

Spencer sighed again, exasperated and exhausted from both the upcoming case and the unanswered calls to Charlotte's phone. "Her name; it's Charlotte."

"Ah hah! I knew it, I'm always right!" Derek cheered. "So tell us, what's she like, how did you meet her? We've got four hours until we land so you'd better be descriptive."

Reluctantly, "The bookstore, where she works-"

"You mean the one you always go to?"

Garcia put a hand over her heart and cooed, being the hopeless romantic of the group.

"Yes, anyway things just, took off I guess. As for Charlotte she's, well she's, uh, her…"

Spencer's face heated as her beautiful face formed in his mind, large blonde curls dusting her face, sharp cobalt eyes staring holes into his. Derek guffawed and snapped him out of his trance, clearing his throat to hide the embarrassment.

Thankfully Hotch interrupted. "Hey, guys, we have to focus, no fooling around."

After ignored protest the team started to return to their seats and go over the case file for the third time, but Spencer, unsure, stopped one of them.

"Hey JJ?"

"Yeah Spence?"

"Well, I think Charlotte's being…well…I think someone is…"

"Someone is what?"

"Never mind. It's nothing."

She gave him a strange look and continued to walk away towards the coffee maker in the back of the jet, leaving Spencer to his thoughts once again.


End file.
